


city of night

by jeeno2



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (The ficlet inspired by the TRoS trailer is chapter 5 ;)), (but not really), Canon Compliant, Crack, F/M, Fanfiction, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Inspired by Twitter, Jealousy, Librarians, Light Angst, Loud Sex, Oral Sex, Redeemed Ben Solo, Sharing A Taxi, Strangers to Lovers, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teasers & Trailers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-08-23 05:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20237854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/pseuds/jeeno2
Summary: Someone is leaving lewd comments in the library “Suggestions” box.At first, Ben didn’t think anything of it. Undergrads are idiots. Notes saying things like "let me see your donger" are probably par for the course.Lately, though, the comments are getting harder to ignore.-----(A series of short one-shots originally posted on twitter)





	1. city of night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elemie89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elemie89/gifts).

> I've been writing a lot of twitter-string fics lately. And now I'm slowly migrating them over here. :) Each chapter of this fic will be a different, unrelated fic I originally posted to twitter. Some will have smut; others will be solidly rated T.
> 
> Twitter's 250-character limit forces a pretty tight structure on stories written there. I've expanded these fics from its original format but have more or less left the "breaks" where they originally fell.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s already someone sitting in the back of the cab when Ben opens the door--someone tall and thin, with legs that go on for days, wearing a black sheath dress that fits her body like a glove.

There’s already someone sitting in the back of the cab when Ben opens the door--someone tall and thin, with legs that go on for days, wearing a black sheath dress that fits her body like a glove.

He must stare at her a minute too long because the cabbie asks, irritated: “You getting in?”

* *

Ben had ordered a private ride from the cab company. He has a meeting downtown and he needs to prepare for it. But he tamps down his irritation that he didn’t get what he’d paid for and gets in the car. He’s already running late. He doesn’t have time right now to get into an argument with the cab company that will ultimately get him nowhere.

The backseat is too small and he’s far too big for it. On accident, his fingers brush up against the woman’s hip as he buckles himself in.

She startles, and turns to look at him.

His mouth goes dry.

* *

This woman… is beautiful. Wide, hazel eyes perfectly framed in an oval-shaped face. Red, red lips, with dimples on either side of the clearly forced smile she’s giving him.

She extends her hand. “I’m Rey,” she says.

Ben swallows. Beautiful women don’t usually talk to him.

“Ben,” he manages.

* *

“Ben,” she repeats thoughtfully. He likes the way his name sounds in her pretty mouth. (Even though he knows he should not be thinking about her mouth at all.)

Silence. 

The cab speeds along the freeway. Not much traffic at this hour. And then:

“I know this is crazy, Ben. But… can I ask you for a favor?” 

* *

Ben blinks at her. “A favor?”

“Yeah.” Rey looks down at her hands. Her fingernails are very short and a bit ragged, but painted a perfect red that matches her smile. “Since we seem to be in this car together and will be stuck here a while.”

Ben waits for her to continue. When she doesn’t, he asks: “What’s the favor?”

She looks up at him. He notices, for the first time, that her pretty hazel eyes are rimmed with red. “Kiss me?”

* * 

Ben can’t have heard her right. 

Of course, his cock doesn’t care if he heard her right or not. A beautiful woman just asked him to kiss her. His dick, being what it is, is already reacting.

“I’m… I’m sorry?” he stammers. His collar suddenly feels too tight. He tries to loosen it with his fingers. It doesn’t help. “What did you say?”

Rey sighs. “I just got dumped over text. My ex is going to be at this party. I want to show up looking... kissed.”

* *

Ben stares at her. Then he pinches his thigh. Hard. Because he’s got to be dreaming. People like him don’t accidentally end up in cabs like this with people like her and get asked… get asked to…

“Ok,” he hears himself say. 

Oh, god. What is happening here?

“Thank you,” Rey murmurs to her shoes. 

She doesn’t look at him.

She climbs onto his lap.

* *

Her thighs brush up against his rapidly hardening cock as she moves to straddles him. But she doesn’t seem to notice. 

Or if she does notice, she doesn’t care.

Ben looks anxiously over her shoulder to the cabbie, who’s keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the road and willfully ignoring what’s happening in his back seat.

“Shove your hands in my hair,” Rey tells him. She leans closer. Licks the pulsepoint on his neck. His toes curl inside his dress shoes. “Mess it all up.”

* *

Ben tries to do what she asks. But it’s hard. It’s so hard to focus on messing up her hair--or even on kissing her back properly--with the way her lips feel pressed against his (so soft; so pliant and warm) and with how insistently she’s grinding down on his dick.

He grabs a fistful of her curls, worried he’s hurting her.

“Good,” she says. _ Good. _ He whimpers in the back of his throat without meaning to. “Just like that. Only harder.”

* *

He tries. 

He _ tries. _

But, Jesus--he has a gorgeous woman on his lap, making out with him in the backseat of a cab. Every ounce of strength he has is going into not shaming himself utterly, right in his pants.

“_Oh _.” The sound leaves him involuntarily when she undoes his belt buckle. Slips her hand inside the waistband of his slacks.

* *

“What… what are you…”

The rest of what Ben wanted to say dies on his lips when she wraps her hand around his cock, and then gives him a firm tug. 

And then another.

“Kiss me like you mean it, Ben.” She isn’t smiling. Her hand is moving, sliding so exquisitely, up and down. Ben is pretty sure he’s going to die any minute now. “_ Please _.”

* *

He just met this woman, but already he knows he will never be able to refuse her.

With a loud groan that the cabbie _ surely _ must hear Ben clutches at her hips, pulling her to him until their chests are flush. He can feel the hard points of her nipples through the thin fabric of her black dress--she must not be wearing a bra tonight--and he devours her mouth, her bright red lipstick on his tongue a revelation.

* *

Time passes, though Ben has no way of knowing how much. Not with Rey on his lap, her tongue in his mouth, and his cock hot and throbbing in her hands.

Eventually, the cab pulls up in front of a fancy white house that Ben vaguely recognizes. 

Rey pulls back, breathing hard. 

She looks him right in the eye for the first time tonight. 

“This is my party,” she says.

* *

Ben looks out the window. “This is Hux’s house,” he says, without thinking.

Rey quirks an eyebrow at him. “You know Armitage?”

Ben pictures him in his mind’s eye. Ginger hair. Permanently sour expression. The literal thorn in his side at work these past two years. 

“Unfortunately,” he mutters.

Rey looks at the house. Looks back at Ben.

“Want to continue this inside?”

* *

Ben nearly swallows his tongue.

“Really?” He must look, and sound, like an over-excited puppy. He can’t find it in him to care.

Rey looks down at her hands. “Only if you want to. I’m sure you have somewhere else to be.”

Ben does have somewhere else to be. Specifically: the meeting he’s late for. He has enough sense left in his head to remember it starts in less than ten minutes. But his cock is still painfully hard, and the idea of messing with Hux with Rey on his arm…

“Sure,” he says.

She smiles at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

* *

Ben sees Hux inside the party, but only for a moment. No sooner are he and Rey through the front door of his house than Rey is tugging him into a guest room on the ground floor.

She has his pants and his boxers down around his ankles before he can ask her if she’s sure about this.

She kneels on the floor between his knees, her face mere inches from his cock. He feels her warm breath against his inner thighs, her hand sliding up along his shaft--and then the gentle, irresistible pull of her sweet, soft lips as she sucks him inside.

He buries his hands in her already wrecked hair.

He stops asking questions.

* *

Ben knows it’s all for Hux’s benefit. He knows Rey wants him to groan, and cry out, and make a huge production of getting sucked off in here so Hux will overhear it and get jealous.

But it almost doesn’t matter that all of this is meaningless to her. It feels _ so good _ to be in her mouth right now. Her perfect tongue is so wet, so _ agonizing _, as it strokes him from base to tip, the sweet suction of her mouth a special kind of torture he can feel at the base of his spine.

It almost doesn’t matter that this is meaningless to her. 

It feels so _ fucking good _ he can almost pretend that it’s real.

* *

When Ben eventually comes down her pretty little throat he _ does _ groan, and cry out. 

He doesn’t mean to. He doesn’t even want to. But she’s amazing, this girl he doesn’t even know_ . _And it’s been way too long since anything like this has happened to him.

He claps a hand over his mouth to try and stifle the noise.

“I want to hear you,” Rey murmurs, prying his hand free.

* *

By the time Ben comes back to himself, and tucks his softening dick back into his pants, she’s gone.

He looks around a few minutes before finding her in the kitchen, embroiled in an argument with Hux. They’re being so loud, and carrying on so theatrically, that everyone within earshot has stopped to watch.

_ Mission accomplished _, Ben thinks, a lump in his throat.

* *

Ben quietly makes his way to the foyer, past people milling around half-drunk and making small talk with one another. All things he’s never known how to do.

He can still feel the press of Rey’s lips to his groin when he opens the front door.

He sighs, and walks out into the night.

* *

Ben gets to the end of Hux’s driveway and pulls out his phone to call an Uber. The cab that brought them here is long gone, of course, but if he hurries he can still catch the end of his meeting.

He hears Rey’s quick footsteps coming up behind him before he realizes she’s here.

She touches his arm.

* *

“Hey,” she says. She’s out of breath, like she ran to get here. Her hair is still a wreck from the cab, and…

She looks embarrassed. And now, there are fresh tear tracks on her cheeks.

Ben doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t make eye contact. He just wants to get in an Uber and go to his fucking meeting. Which is all he’s wanted to do from the very beginning.

“I’m so sorry about all this,” she says. “This was… wildly inappropriate of me. I know that. And it isn’t like me at all. I’m just… I’m sorry.”

* *

Ben nods. The orgasm she gave him less than twenty minutes ago is still buzzing through his bloodstream, and this is the weirdest fucking thing that has ever happened to him, but…

“It’s fine.” He doesn’t know if it’s the truth, but he wants it to be.

“Can I make it up to you?” she asks.

* *

She takes a pen and a scrap of paper from her purse. She scribbles something on it. Hands it to him.

It’s a phone number.

“You can toss it in the rubbish bin if you like. But if you’d ever like to grab coffee, and let me make it up to you…”

She trails off expectantly, waiting for him to say yes.

“My Uber’s here,” he says instead.

* *

But Ben’s no hero.

And he’s never been anything resembling strong.

After his meeting is over Ben sends a quick text to the number Rey placed in his hands two hours ago.

_ Coffee would be good _, is all it says.

Her reply is immediate:

**How’s Wednesday at 3?**

* *

Rey is already there, waiting for him, when Ben shows up at the coffee house on Wednesday. She’s wearing jeans and a pale green shirt that brings out the color of her eyes.

“Rey,” he says. His stomach is full of butterflies, in a way it hasn’t been since he was a teenager. Was coming here, seeing her again, the right decision?

Rey looks up from her coffee and beams at him.

He supposes there’s only one way to find out.

*


	2. nerdy librarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is leaving lewd comments in the library “Suggestions” box.
> 
> At first, Ben didn’t think anything of it. Undergrads are idiots. Notes saying things like "let me see your donger" are probably par for the course.
> 
> Lately, though, the comments are getting harder to ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in the process of migrating my twitter fics here to AO3. :)
> 
> This was based on a reylo_prompts prompt: “Rey has hots for the new cute tweed-wearing librarian. But God, he is dense.”
> 
> The original twitter string [for this fic](https://twitter.com/jeenonamit/status/1157340642403651586?s=20):  


Someone is leaving lewd comments in the library “Suggestions” box.

At first, Ben didn’t think anything of it. Undergrads are idiots. Notes saying things like  _ let me see your donger _ are probably par for the course.

Lately, though, the comments are getting harder to ignore.

What’s he supposed to do with notes like the ones he found today? Maybe he’s just the world’s biggest innocent, but:  _ you’re the cutest librarian this university has ever had  _ and  _ you can card my catalog anytime _ both feel personal, somehow.

Ben is relieved to learn he is not the only one who’s noticed what’s going on.

“We’re having a library-wide meeting at three today to discuss this.” Professor Holdo, the person who hired him, gives Ben a reassuring nod. “I know you’re new but trust me--this isn’t how things usually are around here.”

“Good.” Ben has always thought this library in general--and Professor Holdo in particular--to be highly professional. Despite this university being what it is and its undergrad student population being what  _ it _ is.

But right now, Ben has other, more pressing matters to think about than inappropriate notes being left in the suggestions box and who might be leaving them.

Like, for example, being on time for lunch.

* * *

Ben has never been any good at flirting.

Or even at, you know…  _ talking _ with women.

Or with people in general.

But the woman who sits in the back of the Student Union food court every day with her lunch and a textbook spread out in front of her makes him wish he were.

He grabs a sandwich--he pays no attention to what kind--and sits at the opposite end of her table. Just like he’s done every day since discovering her here three weeks ago.

“Math today?”

Her book of the day always feels like a safe subject. Neutral territory. And it’s never the same book two days in a row, so it’s always a reliable conversation starter. 

She nods. “Yeah. I’ve got an exam tomorrow.”

“Ah.” 

He nods. But he doesn’t know what to say next.

He never knows what to say next. 

He  _ does _ know she’s a hard sciences grad student from the U.K.-- or that, at least, she’s lived enough of her life there to have an accent that brings him to his knees. He knows she’s on some kind of financial aid to be here, and that she works incredibly hard.

Suddenly, he has an idea. He could kick himself for not thinking of it earlier.

“Would you like a study aid?”

She levels him with a megawatt smile Ben is certain has turned far better men than him into quivering messes.

“You have a study aid for differential equations?” she asks, eyes wide.

For once in his life, Ben knows  _ exactly _ what to say.

“I’m a university librarian,” he says with as much machismo as he can muster. Which admittedly isn’t very much. “I have everything.”

Her smile grows. Ben wonders if she has any idea the effect she has on him when she smiles. Unlikely, of course. She probably smiles at everyone. At dogs and cats, even.

“I have class right now,” she says. She’s already putting her book away in her backpack. Ben’s stomach sinks. Lunchtime never lasts long enough when he’s with her. “But I’ll drop by the library after dinner. Around 6.” She shoulders her bag. Stands up. “Will that work?”

He nods vigorously. He probably looks overeager, but he doesn’t care. “It works great,” he says.

He stands up, and leaves her to finishing up her packing.

He has a three o’clock meeting to get to anyway.

* * *

The meeting, unsurprisingly, leads to no real solutions. 

Dameron--that smug asshole of an assistant librarian, for whom Ben has never had any use at all--is convinced the dirty comments they’re getting are all about him.

“All the latest one says is,  _ I want you to library AID me all night long _ .” Holdo looks dubious. “Why are you sure it’s about you?”

Dameron says something snarky in response to that but Ben isn’t listening anymore. He just wants this meeting to end and for Rey, his lunchtime friend, to finally get here. Maybe he’ll finally work up the courage to ask her out to coffee. Unlikely, of course. But it’s a thing that could technically  _ happen. _

Rose--another assistant librarian, and one Ben greatly prefers to Poe--asks: “When did the weird suggestion box notes start showing up, Holdo?”

“There was a big uptick about three weeks ago,” Holdo says. “Right at the start of the semester. When we made our most recent hires.” She nods at Ben. “Like Ben.”

Ben frowns. “That’s weird,” he mutters.

“Have there been new comments since this morning?” Rose asks. She’s taking notes on a little yellow notepad.  _ Smart _ , Ben thinks to himself.

“Just one,” Holdo says. She plucks it from the box and reads:  _ Tweed jacket with felt elbow patches are my kryptonite _ .

Ben nearly jumps out of his chair.

_ He  _ wears jackets like that.

Everyone else seems to have had the same thought, because out of the corner of his eye he can see Dameron smirking. 

“Anything you’d like to share, Solo?” he asks. 

“Um,” Ben says, feeling dizzy.

Just then, Rey comes into view, peering in at them from just outside the library conference room. Ben sighs audibly at the sight of her, relieved both for an excuse to see her a little earlier than anticipated, and to leave this insanity.

He adjusts his necktie and stands up.

“Excuse me, everyone,” he says.” His voice cracks on the last word. He decides to let it go. “I have a meeting with a student.”

“Will you be wearing a tweed jacket?” Poe calls after him.

But Ben ignores him and makes his way over to Rey.

* * *

Rey looks lovely this afternoon as usual. She’s wearing a pretty green sundress with thin spaghetti straps. She must have changed clothes at some point, because she was wearing a t-shirt and jeans earlier, at lunch.

But Ben isn’t paying attention to what she’s wearing. Of course he isn’t. That would be inappropriate.

“Do you have a minute?” she asks.

“To give you the study aid?”

“No,” she says. “I want to talk about… something else.”

Ben frowns at her. “What is it?”

She pauses. The freckles across the bridge of her nose should really be against the law. Nothing should be this enticing. This.... utterly adorable.

The things he would do to this girl, if only she would let him.

“I have a confession to make,” she says. She looks jumpy. Nervous. Ben is thoroughly confused.

“A confession?” What on earth does she have to confess?

She nods. “You know your colleague? Rose?”

The sensible one. Right. “Yes, I know Rose. What about her?”

“So, she’s kind of my roommate.”

Oh. “So?”

“Well, the other night, we were talking about guys we liked. Guys we’re… interested in.”

Ben’s hands clench into involuntary fists. Is this where she asks for advice with her love life? Because he really doesn’t think--

“She gave me advice on how to get the guy I’m interested to notice me,” she continues. 

But Ben doesn’t want to hear this.

“I’m glad she’s helping you,” he says. He says it far too abruptly. He knows that. But he can’t help it. “But I really don’t see how--”

“The thing is, it turns out even being totally obvious about it--which is the advice she gave me--isn’t working.” 

She looks so sad. And even though Ben would rather have his toenails ripped out than have this conversation, he caves.

He sighs. “How have you been trying to get him to notice you?”

“Leaving stupid notes for him in a place he’s sure to find them.”

Ben’s stomach sinks and closes his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose. The library has wasted so much time on this stupid mystery, all because the woman he’s infatuated with is too afraid to tell Poe Dameron she’s interested in him.

“Just tell him the truth,” he mutters. “Stop wasting my time.”

The reaction this has on Rey is unexpected. Her face sort of… crumples. She quickly wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, like she’s trying to dash tears away before he can see.

“I’m sorry, but… I’d kind of thought maybe you fancied me too,” she mumbles. “Guess I was wrong.”

“What-- _ wait _ . Wait a minute.” He can’t have hear her right. Can he? Did she just say what he thinks she said? His mind is dull, far too slow. The world is moving at half its regular rate of speed.

“I won’t waste your time anymore,” Rey mutters. She turns to leave.

He grabs her wrist.

She stiffens. He must have heard her wrong, things like this don’t  _ happen _ to people like him, but--

“Those notes were for  _ me _ ?” he stammers.

She looks right at him. Utterly dumbfounded.

He doesn’t let go of her wrist.

“Who else would they have been for?” she asks, incredulous.

Ben feels like he’s just been hit on the back of the head with a blunt object. He is stunned. Reeling. He answers her with the first thing that pops into his head. 

“I mean… Poe?”

Rey stares at him. “Poe helped me and Rose come up with this idea in the first place.”

Wait a minute.

_ What? _

Rey looks at where he’s still holding her wrist. “If you don’t want me to waste your time, I can just--”

“You’re not, Ben says, quickly, his long-dormant instinct kicking in at last. “You’re… you’re very not.”

He steps closer to her.

He grins.

* * *

Poe Dameron, still in the library conference room with the others, looks at his watch.

“He’s been gone thirty minutes,” he notes. “Think it worked?”

Rose shrugs. “They’re both pretty clueless. But… I don’t know, maybe?”

“I put the odds at fifty-fifty,” Holdo says. “Now get back to work.”

* * *

When Ben gets into the library the next morning, exhausted from a night of almost no sleep and happier than he’s been in his life, the  _ Suggestions _ box has little pink hearts drawn all over it.

For the first time in his three weeks in this position his colleagues see Ben Solo smile.


	3. make some noise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is always so quiet during sex.
> 
> Rey doesn’t think anything of it at first. They’ve only just started sleeping together but already she can tell Ben is an incredible lover, attentive and giving and all the things Rey has ever wanted in a partner.
> 
> But sometimes--not all the time, but sometimes--it feels like something is missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the following prompt: "I hate the sounds my boyfriend makes during sex. He just kind of whimpers as things start to get hot, particularly if I kiss him on the neck or elsewhere on his body, and he legitimately sounds like a small animal in pain. The strange thing is, he seems to realize these noises are unusual and off-putting, but says he can't help it; that's just how he sounds when he feels good. I'm really turned on by him otherwise but I cant' go on forever hearing the cries of injured wildlife while we're getting it on."
> 
> The original twitter string [for this fic](https://twitter.com/jeenonamit/status/1174687081739751424?s=20/):  


Ben is always so quiet during sex.

Rey doesn’t think anything of it at first. They’ve only just started sleeping together but already she can tell Ben is an incredible lover, attentive and giving and all the things Rey has ever wanted in a partner.

But sometimes--not all the time, but  _ sometimes-- _ it feels like something is missing.

Rey knows Ben likes the things she does to him in bed. As well as the things they do to each other. She can tell by the reverent way he looks at her and how his fingers dig, hard and urgent, into the base of her spine when he comes.

But he’s always so controlled. Every time. So in command of himself and his reactions no matter what.

And Rey…

Rey wants him to lose control. Just a little bit. 

With her.

On their sixth date--the fourth time they’ve ended up in bed back at his place--Rey decides she’s going to wrench a whimper from Ben Solo during sex if it kills her.

“Lie back,” she tells him. Ben’s eyes widen, but he obeys. She runs her hands up his massive thighs. (God. The things she wants to do to this man.) “Let me do this.” 

She slowly unzips his pants and pulls him free of his boxers--revelling, as always, in how quickly his cock gets hard when she takes him in hand. She glances up at his face, and sees his eyes are already squeezed tightly shut. He’s covering his mouth with one hand, as if trying to force himself silent.

She wants him to drop his hand.

She wants him to let go.

She opens her lips and takes him inside her waiting mouth, gripping him tight at the base with her hands the way she knows he likes. 

Ben squeezes his eyes shut tighter and doesn’t make a sound.

Rey redoubles her efforts, humming around his cock as she lets him slide wetly in and out of her mouth, letting the vibrations from her lips work their way through him. He clenches his jaw, his hands tangle needfully in her hair--

But still he hangs on, silent.

It’s only when she opens her mouth wider--takes him in deeper, as much of him as she can--that his veneer cracks a little. It’s only the barest hint of a sound. Hardly even a whimper. But she hears it, and it’s everything to her.

“Rey,” he croaks, panicked, when he realizes what he’s done. He pulls back. “Fuck. I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Rey reluctantly lets him slip from her mouth. He fumbles with his pants, trying to get them up his thighs and buttoned again. But his hands are shaking too badly to manage it.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

But Rey only frowns at him, confused. “Why are you sorry?” Because none of this makes any sense.

Ben pauses, then bites that luscious bottom lip of his. Rey stares at his mouth, eager to get back to what they’d just been doing.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “I just… I don’t like to make… noise, I guess, when I…” The tips of his ears go pink. “Because once I start, I can’t stop.”

Rey leans forward and presses a kiss to his upper thigh. Ben shudders a little at the contact and closes his eyes. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop,” Rey says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I want you to be loud.”

Ben lets out a little, involuntary whimper at that admission. Rey presses her advantage and lays her palm flat on his upper thigh. She squeezes.

“You can’t mean that.” Ben’s voice is a warning, low and dangerous. “You can’t--”

Rey moves her hand upward. “Let go, Ben.”

“Rey--”

She takes him into her mouth again and sucks, hollowing out her cheeks. The sound it wrenches from Ben’s throat is barely human, a groan so long and so wretched with pleasure Rey can feel her own arousal spiking in response. 

“God,” he cries out, fingers tangling in her hair.

And that’s when things start to get… weird.

“ _ Moooooo _ ,” Ben moans. Long and low and strange. “ _ Moooooooooooo!” _

Rey’s mouth stutters on his cock. Is he actually…  _ mooing _ ? While she’s blowing him?

“ _ MoooOOOoooOOO!” _

Yeah, okay. He’s definitely mooing while she’s blowing him. 

She’s about to stop, to ask Ben what in the actual, ever-loving fuck is going on right now--but then she looks up again and sees the intense look of gratification on his face, and the perfect  _ o _ shape of his lips as he moos his pleasure.

Rey shrugs internally, and decides she’s seen weirder shit before.

She carries on.

And then Ben comes, hard, amid a jumbled cacophony of swear words and weird noises. He pulses, spasms, inside her mouth. When the first spurt of his milky spunk hits Rey’s tongue she swallows him down, a lot more turned on by all this than she’d like to admit. 

She pulls back from him, wiping the back of her hand across her lips. He smiles shyly down at her.

“Thank you for being so understanding.” Ben looks away, the tips of his ears going a little pink again. “Past girlfriends haven’t always… well.”

Rey grabs his hand. 

“I mean… it’s weird,” Rey admits. She feels Ben stiffen. She rushes to reassure him. “But I want you to do what feels good, Ben. Always.”

He beams at her.

And then he returns the favor, laying her out on his bed, and going down on her for so long and so well she loses track of the noises she makes, too.


	4. email oopsies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the following @reylo_prompts prompt on twitter: "For her creative writing class Rey must produce an essay on something that occupies her mind. She writes about her STEM major and, because she is bored, another one on her TA's plush lips and where she wants them. Of course she sends the wrong one."
> 
> [(Original tweet string)](https://twitter.com/jeenonamit/status/1153677968599867392?s=20):  


Finn looks over Rey’s shoulder and gapes at the words on the screen. “I can’t believe you wrote that.”

She peers up at him. “Why not?”

“No one has  _ pillow-soft lips _ , Rey,” he mutters. “No one. It’s like literally impossible.”

Rey shrugs. “So?”

“ _ So _ ?” Finn’s clearly exasperated now. God, he’s fun to wind up. “You need to write your essay. Not this—” he gestures meaningfully at her laptop screen—”not this garbage.”

Rey turns back to her monitor, affronted. “It’s not garbage,” she mutters.

“Yes it is.”

Rey silently rereads the last few lines she wrote before she was so rudely interrupted:

*************************

_ Solo kneels down on the floor and spreads my legs wide. He drags my panties down my legs with one hooked finger, before looking up at me with hunger in his dark, heavy-lidded eyes. _

*************************

  
  


“It’s not garbage,” she says again. “It’s  _ awesome _ .”

Finn throws up his hands. “Fine. Whatever. You still need to pass this creative writing class to graduate in May.” He glares at her. “Finish your damn essay. Do the dirty stories later.”

He’s right, of course. Even though Rey would rather eat glass than write an entire five page essay on her STEM major and why it’s meaningful to her. Because the only thing she hates more than her major is thinking critically about it being her major.

“Fine,” Rey sighs, resigned. “I’ll finish it.”

“Good.”

Finn leaves her room, and Rey turns back to her laptop, determined to plow through this essay as fast as she can. Though it’s harder to shut off the mental image of Ben Solo, her huge and ridiculously hot creative writing TA, on his knees, with his face pressed eagerly between her thighs, than she’d like.

* * *

After another two hours of writing and editing Rey is satisfied enough with her essay to call it a night.

She gets up and grabs a beer from her fridge, then brings it back with her to her desk.

“Thank god that’s finished,” she mutters under her breath, before sending the thing off to her TA.

* * *

Rey wakes up the next morning to a splitting headache and two new texts.

The first is from Finn:

**Coffee this afternoon?**

The second is from Ben Solo, which he must have sent in reply to her sending him her essay:

**I need to talk with you about what you sent me last night. My office hours are today from three to five in the library. Let me know if that works for you. - Ben Solo**

Rey’s stomach sinks. Her essay must REALLY suck for him to get back to her so quickly—she only sent it like eight hours ago—and insist she meet him today during office hours.

She makes herself a quick cup of coffee to steel her nerves before texting him back:

_ I can meet at 3. But can you tell me what I got wrong now so I can be prepared? _

His reply is immediate:

**What?**

Rey’s confused. She didn’t think she was being vague. Then again, everyone has always said Ben Solo has the social skills of a turnip—even if he  _ is _ hot as fuck.

_ Give me some pointers at least, Ben. I know I’m not very good at this and that you are. _

Fifteen minutes go by without a response.

Thirty.

When an hour goes by, Rey—anxious, and tired of waiting--sends a follow up text.

_ Can you at least tell me if I got the punctuation right? _

**No. Your punctuation sucks. You overuse commas and em-dashes.**

**But that’s beside the point. We really need to talk, and there’s too much to say to do it over email. Come to my office hours today. Please?**

Rey raises an eyebrow at that. Because…  _ please _ ?

That’s odd.

But she agrees to meet him anyway.

God, she just knows she’s going to get reamed.

* * *

When 3pm finally arrives Rey, nervous, heads for the library.

And Ben Solo.

She tells herself she won’t stare at his lips, or at his ridiculous chest, while he rakes her and her paper over the coals.

And she absolutely will NOT think of all those things she’s been writing about him doing to her. Because if she does that, she’ll never be able to focus on what he’s saying.

She finds him in one of the TA cubicles in the back of the library in jeans that fit him like a glove and a dark brown Henley that hugs his body in ways that are probably indecent.

"Hi," he says, in a voice deep as honey.

It really isn't her fault that she breaks her promise not to stare basically right away

But the funny thing is, and for reasons that escape her, Ben stares back. More than stares. He drinks her in, eyes lingering a beat too long on her shoulders. Her ass. They trail down her body and back up again, giving Rey the distinct impression he's mentally undressing her.

"We need to talk," he says.

At that, Rey gets annoyed.

"So I've gathered," she says, cold. She's been on pins and needles all day, wondering exactly how bad it is. She jabs a thumb at her paper and asks: "Look. Can't you just tell me what I got wrong?"

He nods.

"Yes. But then I can't be your TA anymore."

"What? Why?" He's not making sense. He's looking at her like she hung the moon instead of than at the paper she’s pointing to. The paper they're here to discuss. "I thought you telling me how to fix my assigned essay was kind of your job."

Ben pauses. 

His eyes widen.

"Wait. What?"

Ben stares at her, blinking slowly, like he's trying to process the very basic thing she's just said.

And then... he finally looks down at the essay on the table. And goes white as a sheet.

"Oh no," he moans, so loudly the students in the next carell look up. “Rey.” Ben’s voice is hoarse. His dark eyes are wide, wild. Terrified. He’s staring at her essay like it just murdered his father or something. “This... isn’t what you sent me last night.”

“It isn’t?” But that makes no sense. What else could she have...

Oh.

Oh  _ no. _

A lot goes through Rey’s head all at once.

Should she drop out of college?

Can she get an assumed identity from the FBI?

Is this what a heart attack feels like?

How could she have been so  _ stupid _ ?

Ben is saying something else to her now but she doesn’t hear the words.

She grabs her paper.

She runs.

* * *

She tells Finn the whole story over coffee the next morning.

To his credit, he doesn’t make fun of her.

Much.

“What am I going to do?” she groans.

“That depends,” Finn says. “Do you  _ actually _ think he’s hot? Or were you just messing around?”

Rey’s face goes hot. In the past few weeks she’s written over ten thousand words about all the things she wants Ben Solo to do to her.

She even showed parts of it to Finn.

But admitting out loud that she thinks Ben Solo isn’t just hot, but is actually the hottest fucking guy she’s ever seen? Impossible.

Her phone buzzes with a text, saving her from having to answer Finn.

It’s from Ben Solo.

**You rushed out of the library before I could tell you not to be embarrassed. So I’m saying it now.**

She takes a deep breath. Her heart in her throat, she tells Finn: “No. I wasn’t just messing around.”

Her phone buzzes again. Another text.

**You got some things wrong in the thing you did send me. But you got a lot right. If you’re willing, I’d love the chance to explain to you which parts are which.**

Rey puts down her phone.

“I gotta go, Finn.”

“It’s 8am on Saturday.”

“Sorry. It’s important.

* * *

Ben’s already at the coffee shop when Rey gets there, books spread out on the table in front of him and his horn-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose.

He looks up when Rey sits across from him. And he’s smiling.

“You came,” he says. His smile grows, and he’s  looking at her with such genuine happiness and surprise it makes Rey’s stomach do a funny little flip.

“Yeah,” she says. She nods. Looks away. He said not to be embarrassed about all this but she can’t quite look at him, all the same. “I needed to explain myself, I guess.”

“Same,” Ben says. “But first—you should know that I asked Mothma to assign you to a different TA."

Rey swallows.

"Oh?" She's trying for casual, like what he just said isn’t enough all on its own to set her heart racing. 

Ben nods.

"Now that I know you think about me like I think about you, I kind of had to."

Rey is so shocked that Ben Solo thinks about her at all, ever, that she blurts out her next words without even thinking.

“How do you think about me, Ben?”

His eyes darken.

He leans across the table, so close she can smell the coffee on his breath.

“Every way,” he murmurs. “I think about what you might taste like. Here—“ he trails off, presses the tip of a finger to her lips; “here”— he gestures to her chest; “and here.”

His eyes fall to her lap, hidden beneath her bookbag. She can feel his gaze on her like a physical touch.

She squirms beneath its heat.

“I don’t know what to say.” It’s true, though her words come out far too breathy. What  _ do  _ you say when the hot TA you accidentally sent smut to tells you he wants to… taste you? He’s watching her from behind his horn-rimmed glasses. She wants to feel those glasses, pressed up against her face as he kisses her.

He seems to interpret her words as a lack of interest. His whole posture changes; his spine straightens, his jaw tightens. He takes a long sip of coffee as he ponders his next words.

“Well,” he says, drawing out the word. “I guess you could start by telling me if you meant those things you wrote about me. If you want.”

Rey tries to ignore the hurt in his words. She thinks of the story she accidentally sent him

*************************

_ His large hands grip my thighs as he tugs me down the bed. He lowers his mouth to me, lapping at me so long and so methodically I come, screaming his name. _

*************************

"I did," she admits quietly.

Ben seems to relax a little at that. He gives her a small smile. And then he leans forward across the table again.

"Do you want to get out of here, then?" 

Rey looks back at him. .

She nods.

* * *

“So. Is this a thing you and TA-guy do now?”

Finn looks dubiously at the smut on Rey’s laptop.

“He isn’t my TA anymore.” She can’t quite look him at him when she adds: “He’s my boyfriend; and yes. He’s into it.” 

Finn scoffs, and Rey feels her smile spread slow and easy across her face.

“In fact,” she adds, “we both are.”


	5. with you, always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They stand over the Emperor’s lifeless body together. Just the two of them—she and him—in the end, the way they were always destined to be.
> 
> (Inspired by the TRoS trailer.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm rather overcome with feels after seeing the trailer, just like everyone else.
> 
> I originally posted this on twitter and started expanding on it but I wasn't happy with how it was going. I hope to still expand on this and post as a one-shot eventually but for now, here are four hundred words. ;)

They stand over the Emperor’s lifeless body together. Just the two of them—she and him—in the end, the way they were always destined to be. 

Rey’s heart pounds in her chest so loudly he can feel it. He turns to face her, and his chest is heaving too with the enormity of what they’ve just done.

“You came back,” Rey says, hardly believing it. It’s almost too much for him, the way her voice breaks on the last word. 

He can feel her breath on his cheek and her arms around his neck before he even realizes she’s moved towards him.

_ Yes _ , he wants to tell her, as she buries her face in the folds of his cloak, as he wraps his arms tight around her slender body.  _ Of course I came back _ . He could never have left her to face the Emperor alone. (He could never have left her at all, really —and he wants to tell her that too, but his courage doesn’t stretch that far.)

Rey’s lips on his lips are a revelation. Like air in his lungs, or the Force —s omething critical, necessary for survival, now that he has a taste of it. His arms tighten their hold on her, pulling her body even closer, before she has a chance to change her mind and leave him again.

But she doesn’t leave. She shoves him, hard, up against the wall, needing him, needing  _ this _ as badly as he does.

“You came back,” she murmurs again, kissing him harder, and he can taste how much it means to her in the salt of her tears.

He loses track of how long they stand there, kissing, the rain falling down around them, their bodies pressed so close together not even the Force could tear them apart. Like it would dare to even try. She cups his face in her hands, pushes the wet hair out of his eyes, her fingertips tracing the lines of his face set fire to his veins.

“Ben…” she murmurs, hesitating.

He hears the question in the words she doesn’t say.

“If you want me to be,” he whispers back.

(He doesn’t know if he can really be  _ Ben _ again. It’s been so long, and the name sounds strange to his ears when Rey says it. It feels wrong in his mouth when he does.

But when they reach the Falcon she kisses him again, loving and tender and true. 

For Rey, he decides, he will try.)

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on twitter at [jeenonamit](https://twitter.com/jeenonamit/)!  
Or on tumblr, also at [jeenonamit](https://jeenonamit.tumblr.com/).


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